Conversations
by vanete druse
Summary: AFxOC, pre-slash. "And not even two minutes into my introduction, I had already made a fool of myself in such a way that everyone else wouldn't even speak."


The only reason I got to meet the infamous Artemis Fowl was because my parents were scientists too. Good ones, too, apparently, or so I had heard but then, I was never one for the subject myself. Funny how I could be a direct descendant of two very fine, respectable scientists and never, for one moment, have any sort of affinity for it. Standing there, watching materials react to each other bored me, and during the long process all I could think about was how enthralling the little petri dish with its foaming contents could be if only there was a splash of technicolor to delight the eyes. An artist at heart.

Because of this, it wasn't the most comfortable of situations. After living on faded jeans and t-shirts covered by smocks, my parents had forced a new suit on me, by a designer whose name I had no chance of pronouncing, never worn before and stiff from starch and unfamiliarity. Not to mention the shiny shoes which dug into the backs of my feet, rubbing the area raw and blistering it with each awkward shuffle of a step. I breathed out a sigh of relief when my parents sat us down a table already partially pre-occupied by another family. "We're so glad you could make it! Please, sit down. Our little Arty's such a huge fan of what you're doing..."

To be honest, I have no idea what exactly they did. I find it quite amazing that this teenager my age actually knew, understood, and appreciated what my parents did with their science careers, and I couldn't help but think,_ Perhaps we were switched at birth. _I smiled to myself and avoided most of the conversation by keeping my hands in my lap, sitting up straight, and pretending to be interested without attracting attention to myself, a much harder feat than it sounds. But, as fate has it, it was inevitable that I was mentioned. "And have you met our son, Newton, Artemis?"

The sound of my name brought me back from the next art project that I was planning in my head. When Artemis replied with a simplistic, yet effective, "No, I have not," I took the time to really notice him. He was dressed in a suit as well, but looked comfortable in it, the dark fabric complimenting his pallor. His blue eyes burned with intelligence and something resembling that of hungry that I had not anticipated. "Pleasure to meet you, Newton. I'm curious, does general relativity intrigue or offend you?"

My mind felt as wiped as a freshly washed car. I looked to my parents, who were hiding their smiles and biting back chuckles. "I don't understand."

Artemis's expression changed from bemused to impatient, as he explained, "Einstein's theory of general relativity, which is the theory of gravity that super-cedes Isaac Newton's original. It was a joke." And not even two minutes into my introduction, I had already made a fool of myself in such a way that everyone else wouldn't even speak. I swallowed hard and tried to smile.

"Oh. Ha, ha."

"I guess I just assumed that you'd follow in your parents footsteps, especially with a name like Newton. My apologies." Although he didn't sound apologetic at all, more smug than anything. I felt my face burn but I refused to show my mortification anymore than that.

"Well, I'm certainly not a scientist, if that's what you mean, but I do have strengths in other areas," I said loftily, taking a sip of water and attempting to act suave to show that his stabs hadn't affected me at all (despite the fact that they had).

"Oh?" He replied, raising an eyebrow. "Do tell."

I slowly set down the glass, watching the condensation slid down the glass, and inconspicuously wiping my own palm on the napkin in front of me. "Art. Especially oil on canvas but I also enjoy simple granite pencil sketches in my notebooks."

My heart pounded against my chest as Artemis's vampiric smile surfaced. "Ah, art. I do love it as well, and I can see why your mind has chosen the path of artistic tendencies rather than the scientific ones. I, myself, have a rather knack for it, and I favor impressionism."

"As do I. Such beautiful paintings come out of Impressionist artists. I have a lot of photographer friends, too, so sometimes I ask to borrow their pictures for a bit of conceptual art as well. And of course, the odd collage here and there when I notice a good group of photos from them."

Artemis nodded, and I smiled back. I had redeemed myself! My parents appeared proud of me for once, and the Fowls simply looked content. I suppose they were just glad Artemis was talking with someone of his own age; I got the feeling that he didn't connect with people often.

And then he turned back to my parents and the science was brought back up again. Simple as that.

Even so, I still felt quite accomplished. I had survived a conversation with Artemis Fowl, for the most part. And that, in and of itself, deserved a bit of pride.


End file.
